


Finders Keepers

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: Life's A Snitch And Then You Die [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Fluff, Porn With Plot, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, let me have this, listen... this show broke me, soft bellarke, the room of requirement made them a bed, what were they gonna do - not use it???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-11-29 04:10:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18218027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: Picks up at the end of the last chapter of What's A Little Quaffle Between Friends:Basically, Bellamy and Clarke's first time, with some Peak Soft Blarke and a helping of snark.





	Finders Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when you want to keep your Hogwarts AU G-rated but then accidentally write some Soft Blarke Smut™?
> 
> Obviously, you accidentally make it a companion piece.  
> And then you accidentally add some plot.  
> And then you accidentally cry over how much you wish it could be canon. #justgirlythings

_“Hey.”_

_“Hey yourself.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Wanna get outta here?”_

_“Wow, I thought you’d never ask,” she moved to step away, but he held her close a moment longer, dropping kisses down her neck. She hummed, completely content. “You keep kissing me in here and it’s going to be all I think about whenever I’m on shift. I’ll never get anything done.”_

_“That’s the goal.” He joked, and she finally managed to extricate herself from his arms. He kept his hand firmly around hers, however, and led her from the room, waving at Madam Cartwig as they left. She only nodded curtly, but he saw her small smile as she turned away._

_“Where are we going?” She stage-whispered._

_“Somewhere quiet.”_

_“Library?” She guessed._

_“Quieter.”_

_They wandered in silence after that, but the second they turned into the seventh floor corridor, she knew where he was taking her. He noticed the moment she realised, catching her questioning eyes turn soft at the sight of the unassumingly blank wall. He let go of her hand and gestured for her to stay still while he turned to start pacing._

_“What are you gonna conjure?”_

_“Patience, Princess, I’m trying to think here.”_

_She huffed and fell silent again. He paced thrice and then a small door appeared, the wood beautifully carved with snakes and lions curled around each other. She probably should have laughed at how on the nose it was, but at this point, she was far too interested in what was on the other side of the door to do anything but stare._

_He twined their fingers together again._

_“Looking to you, Princess.”_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The room was small. Not that she was expecting it to be huge, but it looked more like the inside of a cottage than a room in the castle. There was a fireplace in the corner, but it wasn’t oppressively hot; just warm enough.

There was a navy-blue couch with comfy looking cushions, and a coffee table in front of it covered in food.

“You can’t summon food.” She said absently, and he grinned.

“No, but you can ask to give the house elves access so they can bring some for you.”

“Wow, you really planned this, huh?”

“Never let it be said that I am not romantic.”

She snorted. “Wasn’t going to try.”

“Good.” He planted a kiss on her cheek when he realised she wasn’t going to stop staring, and guided her towards the couch. She frowned at something to her left and he turned his head, looking for whatever it was, only to find a huge four-poster bed in the corner, adorned in dark red sheets and silver pillows. He suppressed a groan. “I really didn’t mean to summon that.”

She glanced back at him. “No?”

“I swear; I was only trying to–”

She silenced him with her lips on his, and he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in close.

When she pulled away, he ducked his head into the crook of her neck. “I really don’t expect anything, Princess. We can pretend it’s not there.”

“Absolutely not. Believe me, Bellamy, I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about it for as long as we’re in here.”

He kissed her shoulder. “So what you’re saying is, we should use the bed first, then eat?”

“I know you’re joking.” She said, right before she dragged him back up to kiss him again. “But yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“The food will get cold,” he protested weakly.

“Not in this room it won’t,” she pointed out.

He nodded to himself, “Well, that’s all my concerns covered.” And then he was tackling her onto the mattress and she was laughing in his ear and it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

She was still wearing her robes, and he started slowly working his way down her body, untying things and unbuttoning her shirt as he went. She let out another laugh and her head dropped back onto the sheets.

He paused just before he pulled her shirt aside. “This okay, Princess?”

“Bellamy Goddamn Blake, get your hands on me.” She commanded, and when he didn’t move fast enough, she sat up and removed her shirt and robes entirely: bra included.

His jaw went slaw.

She smirked. “One would think you’d never seen boobs before.”

“Not yours.” He said matter-of-factly, and her smirk turned soft.

He crowded her against the bed again, trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Her hands automatically found his curls and he moaned against her chest when she tugged on them if he did something she liked. His hands roamed down her sides, playing with the waistband of her trousers, and he started moving further down, biting gently at the offending material.

Her breath hitched. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He teased, hooking his fingers around her pants.

She gripped his hand with one of hers and he froze. When she spoke, her voice was small. “You really don’t have to.”

“Do you not want me to?” He leaned away a little.

She bit her lip. “I just… I don’t want you to feel obligated–”

“–Obligated? Princess, I’ve been thinking about this for _so long._ I want to, god, I _really_ want to – but if you don’t, we can do something else. I just want to be here with you. I meant it when I said I didn’t expect anything.”

“You want to?”

“More than anything.” He said earnestly, leaning back over her to press his lips to hers. “Do you have any idea how much I think about it?”

“Really?”

He started trailing kisses down her chest again, nuzzling at the curve of her stomach as he tugged her pants down and off, pulling her underwear with them. She was completely naked in front of him, and she was _beautiful._ He’d never seen anyone or anything look so breath-taking.

She fidgeted under his gaze, still uncomfortable.

He didn’t waste any more time, he simply bent down and put his mouth on her.

A ragged gasp tore from her and she gripped at his hair. He settled himself between her legs and lifted her thighs over his shoulders, drumming patterns into her hips until she arched up under him, effectively distracting him from anything but making her do it again. He slid his fingers into her.

“Bell–” Another gasp fell from her lips.

“Princess.” He teased, and she tugged at his hair in mock disapproval.

“I, I’m…” She kept trying to speak, but every time she started, he crooked his fingers, effectively cutting her off. _“Bell_ … fuck… I…”

And then she was coming, arching off the bed again with a soft cry, and he was grinning against her.

When she returned to her senses, she released his hair and let her hands fall backwards on the bed. She giggled, light and breathy, and he wanted to bottle the sound and listen to it forever because he was certain that no-one else had ever heard Clarke Griffin so happy.

He crawled back up her body, dropping light kisses as he went, and she hummed when he paused at her breasts.

It didn’t take long for her to become frustrated though, yanking him upwards so she could kiss him good and proper.

“You’re stupidly good at that.” She grumbled against his lips, making him chuckle.

“I’m not sure why you’re upset about it,” he stroked at her ribs, “it’s not like I’m ever doing it with anyone else again. It’s just for you.”

She groaned loudly. “You’re such a goddamn sap.”

“But you love it.”

“I do. And if you tell anyone that I do, I’ll kill you. I know how.”

“I’m well aware, Princess.”

“Good.” She drew his earlobe into her mouth and he couldn’t help the needy moan that slipped through his teeth. He could feel her smile against his cheek, and her hands ran up his back, catching on his robes.

“This is unfair,” she complained, tugging at his shirt, “I’m at a disadvantage.”

She reached over to grab her wand from her robes, twirling it, and suddenly his clothes were trying to drag themselves off him. His pants pooled around his ankles until his shoes had finished unlacing themselves, and then he shook them off gingerly. He lifted his hands from her so that his shirt could throw itself to the floor, but within seconds, they were back on her waist, sliding down to her thighs.

“Have you finished levelling the playing field yet, Captain?” He teased.

She pushed at his shoulders until he fell backwards and straddled his hips, grinning down at him.

“Captain?” She ran a finger down his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Of course you do,” he tried to roll his eyes at her, but honestly it was way too much of a turn-on to even joke about it – he was a total goner. Especially when she reached down, without any warning, and wrapped a hand around his dick. His hands automatically lifted to her waist for something to hold on to, to be holding onto _her._

 _“Fuck **me**.”_  He managed, neck straining as he tried not to let the night end embarrassingly early.

“That was the general idea, yeah.” She teased.

“That’s terrible.” He panted. “Really, really awful.”

“Hey, you said it. You can’t say something like that and expect me not to respond that way. I’m friends with _Jasper.”_

“Oh god, please don’t talk about Jasper when we’re about to have sex.”

“Presumptive.” She quipped.

He tried to roll out from beneath her, “Oh, I’m sorry, let’s get dressed and go to the party then–”

She released him to flatten her palms over his chest, pushing him further into the mattress. He definitely didn’t think about how much that turned him on.

At all.

“You’re not going anywhere.” She murmured, leaning down to brush her lips against his. “Not now that I’ve finally got you alone. Do you have any idea how much it’s been killing me not being able to do this?”

“Only if it’s as much as it’s been killing me,” he said.

“Good to know we’re both as pathetic as each other, then.”

He smiled, running his hands along her spine. “Yeah, it’s nice that we’re both only with each other out of sexual frustration. I’m sure the second this is over, we’ll break up and go back to hating each other.”

“I never hated you, Bellamy.”

“Liar.”

She sat back on her haunches and looked down at him. “Okay, so maybe I hated you for a little while. But it’s only because you were a total dick.”

“I’m not denying that, Princess,” he grinned up at her, sliding his hands around to palm her breasts. “I’m just saying–”

But he was cut off when, in one surprisingly swift movement, she lined herself up and lowered herself down onto his dick. He was pretty sure he almost blacked out because;  _Holy fucking shit, there is no way anything is supposed to feel this good._

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” She asked, teasing, but he was pleased to hear that she sounded nearly as wrecked as he did.

“That’s…” he tried to form a coherent sentence as she started rolling her hips. “Playing dirty, Princess.”

She waved a hand in faux nonchalance. “You love it.”

“God, _fuck_ … yeah, yeah I really do,” he moaned. When he pulled her down to kiss her again, desperate to get his lips on hers, the change in position made them both gasp. She dropped her head against his shoulder to wait for her breath to return, and he tangled one hand in her hair while the other curled around her hip.

Her movements were small and slow but it was close and warm and perfect and her lips were brushing against the thrumming pulse in his neck and she was running her fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her temple, “so much. So, so much.”

She inhaled sharply, involuntarily clenching down on him, and he could see spots, heading jerking back against the pillows.

“I should probably tell you that you saying that really does it for me.” She said, unnecessarily.

He exhaled towards the ceiling, fumbling his hands gently towards her jaw, so he could tilt it up. When she was looking at him, he smiled, “I’m getting that.”

“Yeah?” She bit at his chin. “Prove it.”

“I love you.” He sat up, resituating her into his lap. “I love you.” He started sucking and biting the skin of her neck until she sighed. “I love you.”

She was rocking on him harder now, and he lifted his hips to meet hers, jolting a gasp from her.

“Again,” she said, strained. “Do that again.”

When he did, she made a strangled moan and pressed their foreheads together, hands gripping his cheeks.

“Don’t stop doing that.” She begged.

“I wouldn’t even if I could,” he promised, driving into her harder and faster than before.

It knocked little perfect gasps from her lips and she clutched at him tighter and tighter, until she came hard. Her hands fisted in his hair and she cried out and he kissed her wherever she could reach, taking her through it. When she finally stopped shaking, she slumped against him, and he paused.

“Don’t stop on my account.” She mumbled.

He nosed at her cheek. “This is for me; I really like seeing you like this.”

“Sap.” She snarked, but there was no bite to it, and it was accompanied by a flick of her tongue against his neck. She shifted slightly and he thought it might have been accidental until she did it again, making him scrabble at her lower back helplessly. “Come on, Bellamy. _Move.”_

It took barely a few strokes before he came apart, and she sat forward to kiss him through it, because she loved him.

He was kind of crazy about her.

Just a little. 

They were both exhausted and she pushed herself off his lap and collapsed onto the bed. He followed, lying beside her and tangling their fingers together. For a while, neither of them spoke; just basked in the afterglow.

“Okay?” He asked in an exhale.

She huffed. “More than okay, Bellamy.”

“Good,” he said towards the ceiling, waiting for his pulse to return to a more normal speed.

She rolled on her side and he could feel her eyes on his face, but he didn’t look over, wanting to be more composed when he met her gaze. She smiled, he could see it in the corner of his eye, and then she patted his chest.

“Ten points to Gryffindor.”

He groaned and she fell to the side and practically cackled with laughter.

“That’s dreadful. We can’t be together anymore,” he shook his head in mock disappointment, even as he turned to pin her against the bed again. “Jasper has _ruined_ you.”

Her peals of laughter fell away to quiet giggles and he leaned down to capture them with his lips. When he pulled away, she was looking at him with such adoration that he felt his heart skip at least eight beats before it started again.

“Besides,” he ducked his head to kiss her jaw, “I think we deserve more than ten points.”

She smacked his arm, but they were both laughing now, and soon he’d forgotten his mission to make her squirm again, and they were both just lying there, completely wrapped up in each other. Their legs tangled together and she draped herself across his chest as he pulled the soft sheets over them, nuzzling his nose against her hair.

“We really should eat something.” He said.

“Five more minutes,” she burrowed into him more, “then we’ll have your romantic dinner.”

“Don’t you work in the Hospital Wing? Aren’t you supposed to lecture me about the benefits of eating enough–”

_“–Five more minutes.”_

He kissed the crown of her head. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When they finally got around to getting out of bed and putting some clothes on, it turned out that Clarke had been right – the food was just fine.

They curled together on the couch and ate their way through the pasta and bread rolls and chocolate fondue. At one point, Clarke leaned over to lick chocolate from Bellamy’s lips and then the food was forgotten again for the next twenty minutes.

After that, reluctantly, they had to admit that they should _probably_ make an appearance at the party.

He was deliberately dragging his feet as they approached the Gryffindor Tower. “I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this stupid party.”

Clarke scoffed, “It’s for you.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

Just as they reached the door, she turned, exasperated, and put her hands on his shoulders. “Bellamy. You deserve it. I know you think you don’t, but sometimes, you deserve to be celebrated, okay?”

He looked away and she sighed and moved into his space, drawing him into a hug.

“Tell you what, if you make it an hour, we’ll slip away for round three, okay?”

He brought his arms to her waist. “I mean, technically it’d be more like round five, but–”

She smacked him on the arm and he laughed as she turned back to face the Fat Lady. He left his hand on the small of her back. The Fat Lady made a disgruntled face at them.

_“If you could kindly keep your love to yourselves, that would be much appreciated. I haven’t seen the inside of a man’s trousers for hundreds of years.”_

Bellamy tried really, _really_ hard not to react.

Really.

He couldn’t quite catch corners of his lips before they turned upwards though, and she glared daggers at him.

_“Password.”_

“Amor Aeternus,” Bellamy supplied.

She swung open with a haughty expression and the muttering of something that sounded like, _“I’m going to kill Indra for coming up with that. Stupid love, stupid Latin, stupid–”_

The door closed behind them and Bellamy wasn’t quite prepared for the enormous cheer that practically shook the walls. He’d been trying to convince himself that by turning up late, there would be less people, but of course that was foolish of him; the common room was busier than he’d ever seen it.

The wave of people surged forward and soon he was being squeezed on all sides.

“Let me d– shit– _oxygen,_ guys!”

“Let him go, you’re gonna kill him if you keep that up.” Clarke said coolly. "Then which total disaster am I supposed to date?"

Murphy raised his hand and Emori rolled her eyes, shoving him good-naturedly.

The suffocating force released him, and he realised it was Jasper, Monty, Miller, Octavia and Shaw who’d been hugging him.

“Sorry man,” Monty rubbed the back of his neck, “we got overexcited.”

“Fuck apologising,” Octavia said, right before she launched herself at him again, making him stumble backwards into his girlfriend. “Oh, sorry Clarke.”

“You’ll apologise to her but not to me? Your own brother?”

“Pretty much.” Octavia said, jumping down so she could go grab them some drinks.

He draped his arm around Clarke’s waist to bring her into his side. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Two cups of Starshine were shoved into their free hands and Clarke took a long swig of hers, meeting his eyes when she finished. There was a twinkle in the blue, and he knew what was coming.

“Anything special?” He asked.

“Nah, tastes like hot chocolate.” She shrugged, “And a little like a total fucking sap I know.”

“You’re a dick,” he said, right before he swept her up in his arms and kissed her passionately in front of the entire party. It only occurred to him in that very moment that no-one had seen them kiss before. They were pretty tactile with each other, always touching or brushing chaste pecks to each other’s cheeks, but this was an entirely different thing.

The crowd went completely insane, screaming and cheering and exchanging money. Octavia just smiled and bumped fists with Jasper, and Murphy, Miller and Raven clashed their goblets together merrily.

Clarke and Bellamy didn’t see any of it.

“You’re just now working this out?” She gasped between kisses.

“Of course not. Why do you think I fell in love with you?” He teased, nibbling at her bottom lip before he pulled away.

“Good to know that you have a type,” she extricated herself from his arms but she didn’t go far; she just threaded her fingers through his and carved a path through the crowd towards the fireplace.

“Yeah, annoying blondes who hate me,” he snarked back, sitting down in the armchair someone had vacated for them. Clarke immediately plopped down in his lap, hooking her legs over the arm of the chair and tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

“Those are a dime a dozen,” she elbowed him.

“Annoying blondes who love me,” he tried again.

“Better.”

“Annoying blondes that hexed Cage Wallace’s mouth shut when he called me a mudblood.”

He felt her grin against his shirt. “Perfect. Guess you’re stuck with me then.”

“Guess I am.” He squeezed her side and they both turned their attention to their friends, watching Shaw tell a story about his time in muggle London while Jasper and Monty heckled and Raven gazed at him, completely besotted.

Murphy was sharing a drink with Emori, Octavia was leaning on the wall next to Lincoln, Harper was deep in conversation with Wells and Gina, and Roan was just in his periphery, flirting shamelessly with Ilian. Diyoza was there too – pretending not to see all the underage drinking while she kept an eye on the younger students who were still up, namely Madi and Adria.

Soon enough, they would be graduating, he would be leaving his sister to finish her last two years without him, he would be doing something new. Soon they would all be going their separate ways, making time for each other in the brief moments between the rest of their lives. Soon, he hoped, he would be inviting Clarke to come stay in his shitty apartment, and meeting her mother as her _boyfriend_ and doing every important thing with her. But right now, they were allowed to live in this one moment. RIght now, things were almost completely perfect.

So of course Murphy had to go and ruin it.

“I propose a toast,” he called out, loud enough for a hush to fall over the entire party, “to the Gryffindor Captain, for leading his team to victory. Annoyingly, it was pretty well-earned, and it has been an honour battling you for all these years.”

“And they call me the dramatic one,” Bellamy muttered, earning a pinch to his side.

Murphy continued, “May Clarke continue putting up with him for the rest of their lives, or until he accidentally tells her he hates her again.”

“Oh fuck you,” Bellamy groaned, but Clarke was laughing and honestly as long as she kept doing that, he couldn’t stay annoyed at Murphy.

“To Bellamy and Clarke.”

Everybody raised their glasses.

“To our home away from home.” Clarke said, to draw attention away from them.

“To the final two months of classes.” Raven jumped in.

“To passing the N.E.W.T.s,” Monty added.

Miller raised his eyebrows. “To Bellamy not getting injured anymore.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” Octavia pointed out. “To punching bullies.”

“To making magic moonshine!” Jasper beamed.

“To Quidditch,” Emori shook her head, failing to hide her smile.

"To you guys," Harper nudged Monty with her shoulder and he looked like he was about to cry from joy. 

“To Diyoza,” Shaw tilted his glass in the teacher’s direction, “and more specifically, Diyoza’s Quidditch Commentary. It will be sorely missed.”

“To Hogwarts,” Bellamy said loudly. “For bringing us all together.”

Clarke opened her mouth.

“If you call me a sap, I’ll break up with you.” He grumbled.

She hid her snort behind her hand.

“Actually, I was going to agree with you. To Hogwarts!”

Everyone downed their goblets of Starshine, and all of them revelled in the happiness on their tongues and the friends at their sides.

“Sap,” Clarke whispered in Bellamy’s ear, right before she kissed his neck.

 _Yep._ He thought to himself. _Absolutely fucking perfect._


End file.
